The Angel
by CreepCutie
Summary: Corrupting the pure ones in such a fun game.  MoriartyXOC with slight sherlockXOC sister story-The Gamer
1. Chapter 1

4'O'clock at last! Thought work would never end. I packed my stuff, said a cheery bye to Sherlock who ignored me as usual, and practically skipped to the exit.

The moment I stepped outside the hospital I could feel him. The hairs on my neck stood up and a tingle ran down my spine as I felt his eyes on me. Don't ask me how, but I know he's watching. I suppose I should feel scared. A normal person would be terrified if they knew uk's most dangerous criminal, homicidal maniac, Moriarty was watching them. I just felt (Absurdly) safe.

I reached the coffee shop in good time but stepped on 4 cracks on the way. He was there, waiting for me as always. No matter how early I could arrive, he would always be there before me.

His voice lit up with a boyish smile when he saw me and indicated to the seat opposite where I promptly settled myself into.

"I got you your favorite, Caramel latté wasn't it? fully caffeinated? Half the fat?" He said in his lyrical Dublin accent looking at me with those dark brown eyes, almost black in the right light, almost soulless, Like a shark's.

" mmm...Perfect, thank." I said, taking a sip and nearly burning my tongue. "So, how was your day?"

"Oh, you know. Boring. Some imbecile wanted me to bump off his wife, fame his best friend and make sure he got a promotion in America. I mean, please, I'm a consulting criminal, not a hit man deluxe." He rolled his eyes at me then grinned. "So, what have you been up to today, my angel?"

My heart jumped suddenly at his little pet name but I quickly regained composure, determined not to let him see what affect he had on me. Pointless of course.

"Ummm... Yeah, it was ok, I guess," I said sipping at my coffee. "New girl came in today. That was a laugh. Had a masters in Gaming, I mean who has a masters in gaming?" I glanced up, "She seemed to be very taken with Sherlock."

"Oh?" Jim's eyes flashed at the mention of Sherlock's name.

"Yeah. He insulted her life's work, she threw a microscope at his head. I felt they had a special something."

"Oh really?" He mused, leaning back into the leather coffee chair, smiling slyly. I gave him a , what I hoped to be, stern disapproving look.

"Don't get any ideas. She seems nice and she certainly doesn't need any emotional fuckwittage from you."

His big brown eyes widened in mock surprise, as he said innocently; "Moi? Emotional Fuckwittage? MOI?"

I shot him a look.

"Ok, Ok, I'll play nice," His gaze darkened, "For now." He waggled his eyebrows at me over his cup of steaming expresso.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head in despair. You couldn't make Jim do anything he didn't want to. No one could do that.

Well, except Sherlock maybe.

Sufficiently cooled I took another big sip of coffee. Jim lowered his thick eyelashes and looked up at me though them with his most charming smile.

"So, You. Me. Dinner. My place. Tonight?"

I almost choked on my coffee. Inner poise, I told myself, Inner poise. You're an ice-queen. Make him chase you.

"Come on Eve," He said leaning towards me seductively. "I need a serious word with your blouse. It's extremely thin. Almost, When you examine it, So thin almost to the point of transparency. Has it ever occurred to you, your blouse may be suffering from...Bulima?"

"I've got to meet someone," I whispered desperately.

"Come on Angel,"

Aloof, unavailable ice queen.

Aloof, unavailable ice queen.

"No," I said with a firmness that rather surprised me. Especially as, inside, I was shouldering under his gaze.

"Shame," He said softly. "I'll just have to ask someone else to enjoy the pleasure of my company tonight."

He took out his phone and shot me a look so dirty, I felt like throwing myself after him shouting, "Shag me! Shag me!"

He stood up, still tapping away at his phone. "Oh well," He said distractedly in a sing song voice. "See you Monday."

Panicking, I reached for my phone, bashing at it mindlessly.

"Oh! well wouldn't you believe it? You know that person I said I was meeting? Well, he has just text me saying he's ill and can't make it! So I can have dinner with you after all! yeah?" I stood up to face him. "I can... I can still have dinner with you right?" I said hestiantly.

He just stared at me, scrutinizing my face so intensely that I couldn't hold my gaze any longer and shifted my eyeline to stare at his suit. Westwood, naturally.

After he had apparently finished up studying my face, He smiled, he knew he'd won.

"Excellent. I knew you'd fall for me, Angel. My place then. Let's say 8:15," He winked at me, brushed down his immaculate designer suit with young unmarked hands and headed for the door. He stopped, hand on the frame of the door as he looked back with me, dark eyes glinting like a schoolboy with a secret.

"Ciao, my fallen angel."

And with that he was gone.

I collapsed back into the chair breathing fast and trembling slightly.

Bad news: The whole 'unavailable, ice queen' completely failed.

Good news: I had a date with Jim Motherfucking Moriarty!

Bad news: I had a date with the psychopath Jim Moriaty.

Jim was certainly attractive physically. There was no doubt about that, but his mind. Oh, his gloriously brilliant, glittering mind, like shattered glass: dangerous, sharp and often dripping red.

I knew I was one of his little distractions, just a piece in his great game but I still fell for him every time. I thought I could help him, save him some how from himself. Inside I knew. Jim Moriarty was beyond even an angel's help. But don't for one second think I was just going to leave him to burn. If Jim Moriarty was willing to risk everything, I was willing to burn with him.

And hey, I'd just bought a new skirt that was perfect for a hot date.

X X X X X X

Jim Moriarty watched as Eve left the coffee shop looking slightly flushed, a mixture of confusion and excitement on her face. He was enjoying this game with her so much. Watching her edges darkening in such a delicous way right in front of his eyes. watching her gain confidence then trip and fall straight into his waiting arms. Never had he had so much fun corrupting someone before. He reasoned it being she was so pure, innocent and sweet and stripping away those qualities and replacing them with darker, dirtier ones was soo tatalizing. Asking her out for a date was just the beginning soon, she would be his.

It was all so new this game. New and fun and distracting, Jim checked himself in the mirror, perfected the knot of his tie with his steady nimble fingers and smilied.

Things could only get more interesting...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I was gazing in despair at my full-length reflection when the phone rang. Gingerly I picked it up, half afraid it would be him. I let out a small sigh of relief when I heard Tom's voice. I really needed best-friend advice right now.

"Hiya gorgeous! So, who's the lucky fella then hmm?"

"But...Wha...how did you know?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"Aha! I have spies everywhere Muhahah.."

"Who told you this time?" I interrupted.

"Immy." He said a little less enthusiastically. "She saw you talking with a handsome young man in Common Grounds"

I sighed then smiled. Nothing was secret for long with my friends. I am still mystified why they haven't been offered jobs in MI5 yet.

"Sooo who's this mystery man then? Tell me everything. Where did you meet? Have you been seeing him long? OMG darling are you being safe?"

"Ew! Tome, you're not my mother!"

So I told him everything. Well, almost everything. I skipped the part of him being a criminal mastermind and possible psychopath and just gave him the essential details.

Truth was that I had first met Jim when we were both in University College in Dublin. We got reacquainted by chance a few months back in a little coffee shop near the hospital. We met there almost every Friday since. He had changed. He said I hadn't.

"So when are you going to see this 'Jim' again? Soon?" Tom asked after I had given him all the necessary info.

"Tonight. Oh god Tom what am I going to wear? Can't you come over and help me? Pretty please?"

"Sorry hun. No can do. I'm babysitting Chloe tonight and my sis will be round any minute to drop her off. You on your own Evie."

I sighed in exasperation. "Fine. I'll manage I suppose. Bye then"

"See you soon my lovely. Oh and before you go, word of advice: If he shows any signs of being a bit bonkers, get out of there. I know the types of men you attract."

"How could I forget? But don't worry i have my pepper spray handy!" I laughed nervously.

"All right then. Hugs and kisses, Good luck!"

I hung up, put the phone back on the receiver and stared disparagingly at the mirror again. How on earth was I supposed to make THIS look presentable for tonight?

2 hours later I was completely exhausted by date-preparation. Being a woman is worse than being a farmer. There I so much harvesting and crop spraying to be done: legs waxed, underarms shaved, eyebrows plucked, feet pumiced, skin exfoliated and moisturised, spots cleansed, hair dyed, eyelashes tinted, nails filed, cellulite massaged, stomach muscles exercised.

The whole performance is so highly tuned that you only need to neglect it for a few days and the whole thing goes to seed.

I was just on the way to the bathroom to complete the final farming touches, when I noticed the answer phone light was flashing at me. It was Jim:

"Look, Eve, I'm really sorry but something has, ahem, come up and I don't think we can do dinner at my place. Completely unavoidable I'm afraid so I'll be round yours at 8:15. Thanks! You're an angel. Ciao!"

I couldn't believe it. He expected me to just cook dinner, make the house look half decent and choose an outfit by 8:15?

"Humph. 8:15...8:15...he thinks to intimidate me with the quarter hour Seb" I said to my cat, Sebastian who was rubbing himself against my leg in sympathy. "Better dig out the Jamie Oliver cook book then hadn't I?"

Meanwhile, somewhere in London, Jim Moriarty smiled as he put his iPhone back into his pocket and thought of the chaos he had caused, for once unintentionally. The smile fell from his face as he turned back to the fresh corpse selfishly still bleeding and making a mess on the plush carpet of his flat. Sighing, he wondered how he was going to convince someone to clean this one up...

7:00 and I was still frantically trying to make something edible for tonight's dinner. I decided on a Jamie Oliver chicken korma with pilau rice. Trouble was Jamie said I was supposed to tie flavour enhancing cinnamon and coriander together with string but the only string I had was blue. I expected it would be ok though.

I'd just put the chicken in the pan when I noticed the pilau rice which should've been a nice exotic shade of yellow was now a worrying shade of beige. To help it along I thought I would put some yellow food colouring in.

Disaster. Wrong food dye. Rice was now bright blue.

Disaster soon turned into nightmare when I checked on the curry and found that it too had gone blue.

It was now 7:30. In a frenzied panic I gave up on the food and rushed upstairs to put on make-up and calm down a little. Maybe I could convince him it was a special azure curry trending in India or something.

I looked myself up and down in the mirror, inspecting my new skirt and thinking that I shouldn't really wear blue in case it looks like I wore it to match the food. But it was my colour and I did look pretty hot in that skirt.

Ding Dong!

Oh my god he's early.

I abandoned my heels for some sapphire flat slip-ons and flew down the stairs, took a moment to collect myself then opened the door.

Standing in jeans, shirt and jacket, holding a bunch of crimson roses, grinning like an excited child at the entrance to a circus tent was Jim Moriarty.

"Hello!" he said, brown eyes glinting in the moonlight. "It's only me."

"Hi..." I stammered, momentarily stunned. I hadn't seen him in jeans since uni.

"Erhm, Eve? Are you going to let me in? It's just it's the middle of February and getting a bit nippy out here."

"Oh, yeah, right. Of course come in come in! I babbled as I ushered him in, cursing myself inwardly for behaving like a love struck idiot.

"Well well. You certainly landed on your feet here Eve," he said glancing around the flat as he stepped through the hall and into the living room.

"Actually I'm just staying here while my friend's on holiday but its home, for now at least."

"Ahh..." he paused to sniff the air. "I smell food...curry?" He headed towards the kitchen.

"Uhm yeah but don't...I wouldn't..."

"Wait, this is blue. Um angel, why is it blue?" He smirked, stifling a giggle.

I scowled at him. "It's the latest new type of _azure_ curry. Really popular in India" I said defiantly.

He inspected the bubbling blue pan and raised an eyebrow. "Popular with who? The smurfs?" he laughed. "You're a terrible liar Eve."

I put my hand on my hip, annoying at him slandering my creation after the effort that had gone into it. But I couldn't stop a smile from creeping across my face as he stirred the now turquoise spoon and giggling ecstatically at my culinary failure.

"You weren't seriously going to give me that to eat were you? You night have poisoned me! He said in mock outrage.

"Well I'd save everyone else the bother then wouldn't I?" I retorted glaring at him.

"Aww, angel don't be like that," he said padding over to me. "Hey I know it was short notice and yes, I know you went to a lot of trouble and...Oh is that a skull on the mantelpiece?"

I followed his gaze and peered round the door. "Oh, yeah. That's Bob. I talk to him when I...when there's no one else..." I trailed off realising what a lonely, bonkers saddo I sounded like. Why? Why did I say talk to a SKULL because I have no friends? I could see my future all ready. I would end up alone; single, with many cats who I constantly shout at. AKA: Mad cat lady. Wonderful. Well done.

"You're so cute when you're embarrassed." He muttered almost to himself. "Don't worry about it." He lowered he voice conspiratorially and whispered "I happen to know that Sherlock does exactly the same thing."

I stared at him in horror. "And how is that meant to make me feel better? He puts head phones on the skull of a goat thing on his wall!"

"Good god." We looked at each other with identical expressions for a moment then burst out laughing.

"I'll make us an omelette shall I?" I gasped in-between fits of giggles.

We both made curry omelette which actually wasn't too bad. We talked, laughed and made fun of Sherlock until late into the evening, the eclectic sounds of his iPod playing in the background. Everything was perfect. Jim was witty, entertaining and charming in every way. That is until he put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger.

But for now I couldn't have been happier. We even had a little dance to Stayin' alive when the Beegees came on shuffle. After we'd finished jigging around and got over the fits of giggles, that track had changed to 'Head' by Kirsty MacColl. The dance got slower, more intimate and my heartbeat sped up. We came together in the middle of my living room floor, swaying gently as he put his arms around my waist. Confidence boosted by a few glasses of champagne, I put my arms up to his shoulders and entwined my fingers through his soft black hair. There was no need to say anything. We just danced softly to the hypnotic music, Jim leading me with the confident grace of a leopard. I gazed up into his big dark eyes then rested my head against his chest, listening to his slow, rhythmic heart beat, sighing in contentment. I felt as if this was where I belonged; in his arms, wrapped up and protected against the world just me and him. But it soon had to end. As the music faded out Jim stopped and tilted my face upwards to meet his. Our lips touched only for second but my heartbeat quickened to double the pace as I gasped in surprise. The kiss deepened and I began to kiss him back. His fingers wound themselves through my auburn hair, twisting and tangling until it almost hurt. Every sane thought left my head and all i could think of was how much I didn't want this feeling to end.

That's when I felt the cold, hard barrel of a gun lightly pressed against my temple.

I froze, rooted to the spot in sudden terror. With a sad little smile he said softly "I have loved this, this little game of ours but all good things must come to an end." He thumbed back the hammer. I felt hot wet tears running down my cheeks. This was it. I was going to die. Shot by my own date in front of my own cat who was staring at me doing fuck-all about it. Desperately I raised my hand to push him away but he caught my wrist with his free hand and gripped it tightly. He tutted and shook his head at me, pressing the gun harder against my temple.

"Now now. That's no way to treat your guest is it? Oh well. Time to die."

I closed my eyes as he pulled the trigger.

There was a faint click. I opened first one eye then the other.

"Gotcha!" he sang shrilly, dancing back lightly and laughing hysterically. I gulped in air, heart beating wildly as I tried to stop myself falling to the floor.

"You're...you're INSANE." I gasped finally, steadying myself against the wall. He stared at me in confusion.

"You're just getting that now?" He said a look of genuine puzzlement on his boyish face. "Oh come on. You didn't think I'd actually kill you just like that?" He put his hands either side of my face. "Your far too precious to me." He muttered almost to himself. I stared into those deep dark eyes and actually found myself wondering if he meant it. He let his hands drop to his side and said "and anyway, the game hasn't even started yet. Oh Eve it's going to be so much fun!"

Then he closed the space between us and kissed me suddenly and roughly. No one had ever kissed me like Jim Moriarty. He was kissing me with such a fiery need that he made me lightheaded, made me almost forget who exactly was kissing me. I tasted the salty tang of my own tears on his lips.

When he finally broke away my knees gave way and I slid down the wall. "Oh look at the time!" he exclaimed glancing at his designer watch. "I really must be off. Well, it's been fun my angel. Thanks for the, er, interesting dinner. See you soon!"

I heard the door slam behind him. A moment later I heard a knock. In a daze I got up to open it.

"Ehh, sorry about this but have you got an umbrella by any chance? It's raining cats and dogs out there,"

"Through the hall, in the cupboard on your left," I said numbly. He stood there a moment, slightly dishevelled from the rain, hair sticking up where I had run my fingers through it.

"I'll just get it myself then shall I?" he said exasperatedly, an annoyed expression on his face. He minced off down the hall muttering to himself; "A fine way to treat your guest..." He came back hair ruffled, pouting slightly looking for all the world like a spoilt princess. Despite myself I was finding the whole effect rather adorable. Then I reminded myself that this was the man who, moments earlier had me at gun point.

"Thank you," he said and kissed me lightly on my tear-stained cheek. Next thing I knew he was out the door, disappearing into the night like he had never been there.

I sank to the floor, back against the door, the ghost of his kiss still lingering on my lips.

"You're Welcome."

XXX

I didn't notice the 'little gift' until later that night when I was clearing away the plates from the table, Life on Mars playing on his iPod in the background. There, next to the bunch of roses he'd given me at the door was the revolver. The very same revolver that had been pressed to my head that evening. Next to it was a note.

_I left you a little gift to say thank you for a beautiful evening. I hope you like it. Thought you could use a little protection, angel. _

_All my love, JM_

_XX_

I smiled. "Thanks, but couldn't you have just left me with the roses?" I whispered and single tear slid down my cheek as I realised I loved him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Get out!"

"Wait, listen..."

"Get out now!"

"Can't we just talk about this?"

"I'm not living under the same roof as a girl who hides guns around the house and doesn't tell anyone, now get out of you home!"

"It's not even my gun! You're overreacting..."

"I'm overreacted? I'm not the one who's been acting kind of mental ever since you met some guy at a coffee shop!"

"You don't what you're talking about..."

"Oh I really think I do. I also think you should leave. Right now."

"Fine." I retorted, grabbing my suitcase and marching out the door having it slammed behind me.

"You'll regret it, you'll see...I'll show you..." I muttered dragging my leopard print case angrily along the road towards Baker Street. Reaching 221B I rapped abruptly on the door which was opened by Doctor Watson who greeted me with a warm smile. Almost instantly I felt my anger fading. There was something steady and calming about John and I needed calm right now, especially if I was going to deal with Sherlock.

"Hi doctor! I'm sorry this is such short notice but I was wondering whether I could share the flat upstairs? I've been chucked out of mine by bloody Jean Goodman and..." I faltered, catching sight of a small woman through the hall. "Hi Mrs Hudson! How's the hip?"

"Oh hello dear, it's much better thank you. And how are Mina and the baby?"

"They're good, they're good. Ava's getting so big now, bless her. But that's beside the point. You don't suppose I could stay here for a while? Until I get back on my feet? And can I talk to Sherlock?"

"Two lady friends in one day! Whatever is going on up there?" She exclaimed excitedly, nudging Dr Watson. "But I'm not sure if we have room here love I'm sorry."

My shoulders slumped in defeat as all the fire that had previously fuelled me left and I was struck with the sudden realisation that I might be homeless. I bet Jim would never date a homeless girl...Jim!

Grinning suddenly up at the concerned faces of Mrs Hudson and John, I shouted excitedly, "Jim!" Seeing their confused expressions I said "Thanks John, Mrs Hudson, I'm fine. I just need to make a quick phone call..."

"Pick up... Pick up..." I muttered cursing him inwardly for not answering his damn phone when I needed him. I left a message on his answer phone telling him that my flatmate chucked me out and, since it was mostly his fault, that he should sort it out and let me live with him for a while. As I hung up and slipped the mobile back into my coat pocket I didn't notice the open upstairs window of 221B or the distinctive dark, curly-haired silhouette of a man watching me.

It was nearly dark by the time I reached Common Grounds. I stood on the corner outside, the first snowflakes of winter swirling around me. The revolver felt cold, heavy and alien in my pocket. I could smell freshly ground coffee and feel the warmth of the cafe from the street and was just thinking of going inside when a sleek black Aston Martin pulled up beside me. The door opened and out skipped Jim Moriarty, dressed in his favourite Westwood suite and obviously loving life. I glimpsed a pair of pink fluffy dice swinging from the rear-view mirror of the car.

I took a deep breath, plastered a big smile on my face and squealed with excitement. Rushing over to him i jumped and flung my arms around his neck, almost knocking him over.

"Wow, hi! Well this is a surprise," he said, eyebrows raised while carefully untangling me from his arms. "Careful with the suit honey," he protested as I dragged him round the corner and into the shadows.

"Sorry, it's just so good to see you! I've missed you," I breathed, carefully taking the revolver out of my coat and putting my arms around him. "I've missed you so much..." I put the barrel of the gun against the side of his head, feeling a rush of satisfaction as his eyes widened in surprise for a moment.

Then his face relaxed into an easy smile. The gun wavered for a second as he met my eyes, then I saw the taunting glint in them, mocking me. I pressed the revolver harder against his skull. "What if I was to shoot you now?" I asked coldly trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice.

"You won't," He answered cheerily.

"Oh really? And why is that? You seduced me and put a gun to MY head, the very same gun that got me chucked out of my flat!" I glared at him. "Give me one reason, one reason why I should kill you now."

He smiled. "You just can't. I would try to talk you out of it but I don't think I need to, do you?"

I stared into those cold black eyes for what seemed like an eternity while he stared right back into the sparkling green of mine. He was right of course. I couldn't kill him. However much pain he had caused, however much danger I'd be in, I couldn't pull that trigger.

"You're right, I said finally. "I can't." I slowly lowered the gun, my hand shaking slightly. I was never really going to shoot him. Hell, I didn't even know if the thing was loaded. I looked back up at him, half afraid of what he would do now. "I've disappointed you."

He just smiled and looked away. "Fancy a quick coffee before we head back to my place?"

A few minutes later I was warm, sipping coffee and watching the snow drift down, slowly coating the world with an icy glittering blanket.

"So you're just going to let me move in? Just like that? You don't know anything about me! I could be a...a vanilla prostitute for all you know!"

"Nonsense! I know everything I need to know. In fact I know more about you than you think."

"Surprise me." I said looking at him sceptically.

"Alright," he said putting down his espresso and leaning forward slightly.

"You're smart and you know it. You're beautiful, but you don't see it," I raised an eyebrow. "You've had bad relationships in the past which has made you emotionally vulnerable in some places but stronger in others. You love cats, your friends and chocolate and you hate your ex-boyfriend, French films and orange blonde Essex girls. You have also has a very unstable relationship with your mother ever since your real father left when you were in your teens. You like the dark side which could end you up in a lot of trouble one day," he sat back, evidently pleased with himself. I just stared at him in astonishment. Not even some of my closest friends knew some of that stuff and here he was telling me my own life story.

"Quite right," I said trying to keep the amazement from showing on my face. "Now it's my turn..."

"Go on then," he said tauntingly. "Analyse me, my dear."

"Sure?" He folded his arms, crossed his legs and nodded his assent.

"Ok, well, you're smart, and you like to surprise people with it from time to time. You don't like stupid people. You don't like boring people. And you don't like people telling you what to do. You have a problem with authority."

"I wouldn't call it a problem exact..."

"You play by your own rules," I continued, "and you have a secret you don't want anyone to know about. Have I covered everything?"

He leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing across his lips. I'd impressed him. I'd actually impressed him. It was a new feeling; having one up on Moriarty and I was rather enjoying the sensation.

He put his arm around me as we walked back to the car. We zoomed through the streets of London, streetlight flashing past and Stayin' Alive blaring from the speakers.

"How did you know all that stuff about me?" I asked curiously. "How did you know I don't get on with my mum?" He stopped singing for a moment and looked at me.

"Psh. Who does? It wasn't hard to figure out. The fact that you get kicked out of your flat and went to Sherlock first rather than your family suggests that you don't have the best of relationships with them."

"I'm guessing your parents weren't all sweetness and light either?"

He gave me a sheepish sideways glance. "I remember sitting in church thinking how great it would be if my parents would just hurry up and die so I could be free to do what I wanted for a change. They'd be doing everyone a favour if they'd just kick the bucket sooner rather than later."

I gaped at him. Then I proceeded to stare out the window into the night. Finally I said "I don't know which is weirder, the thought of you wishing your parents were dead or the thought of you in church."

"I was a good boy!" he exclaimed indignantly.

"Oh yeah? What happened?"

He just laughed.


End file.
